


Running Back To You

by reddiebitch



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Richie Tozier, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, M/M, Oblivious Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-14 21:12:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14144679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reddiebitch/pseuds/reddiebitch
Summary: Richie writes an RSVP to Eddie and Myra's wedding invitation.





	Running Back To You

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt from tumblr: Hey! I really think a cool fic could come out of this song for reddie but I don't know who would write it, do you think you could? (Running Back to You by For the Foxes)
> 
> Find me on tumblr [@kaspbrak-eddie](http://www.kaspbrak-eddie.tumblr.com)

Hey Eds,

 

_hey old lover when you fall asleep there’s a piece of you in every song i sing_

It’s Rich. I miss you. We haven’t talked in years but I’ve been doing a lot of thinking recently. You haven’t heard probably, but I’m a singer now! My band is making it big, like you always said I would. Do you remember that night? The one before my family moved out, we just sat at the quarry. You said you always knew I was bigger than Maine. I miss those nights. Anyway. We’ve been doing gigs all over LA for the last few months. I love it, I just get to lose myself in my thoughts when I sing. And recently, they’ve all been about you. Do you ever think of me? I hope you do. I hope so hard it hurts sometimes.

_where your childhood runs wild and free_

I mostly think about how things used to be with us. Simple; happy. Riding you double on my bike down to the quarry when we were kids. Swimming with our friends or seeing movies at the Aladdin. We both always knew there was something between us. More than what we had with the others. I know I wasn’t the only one who felt it.

_without me_

Why didn’t we ever say anything? That’s just what happens when you grow up in a homophobic town, I guess. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been in love with you Eddie. I wish I’d had the stones to tell you before. Every god damn day I think about driving away from Derry, watching you out the back window of my parents’ old car. Just standing on the sidewalk outside our house. I remember the way your shoulders fell. I couldn’t see, did you have tears on your face? I did. My parents thought it was because you were my best friend. I knew it was something else.

_held your love in a silver spoon // walked outside just to kiss the moon_

What if I had said something? What if we’d never left? I should have said something, Eds. We could have gone to college together. I would have gone anywhere for you. We could have been that annoying, disgusting couple who never shuts the fuck up about each other. We could have gotten a cat, even though I’m allergic. But I know you don’t like dogs. You always talked about getting a cat when you moved out of your mom’s house. Did you? Did you get to be that couple with someone else? Are you that couple with  _her_? I’ve never had someone to be that couple with, Eds. I was always waiting for you.

_lookin back i wish i kissed you_

We used to be those people, almost. When I sing, I lose myself. I lose myself thinking about your hands, the touches we shared in high school that… most friends don’t. I think about your hips, your thighs, ruffling my fingers through your hair when I made fun of you. Which I only did as an excuse to touch your hair. I miss your soft hair. Do you gel it down now? I suppose you probably do, most adults don’t let their wavy hair feather out like yours used to. Too touchable. I think about your lips. Too kissable. Although I wouldn’t know, it hurts to think that  _she_ knows more than me. You used to know everything about me, Eds. When I go to sleep at night, I think about it. Remember how you always used to let me climb through your window at night? You knew me so well; that I can’t be alone, even when I sleep. It pains me to think that someone else gets to spend their nights with you, because my nights with you are the best things out of everything I can still remember about Derry.

_to keep the light on honey is the least that i can do_

I remember those nights every time I fall asleep. You used to leave your window open for me every night, and I’ve never locked a window since. I don’t know why, it’s not like you’re going to climb through and come save me from this heartache. But just in case. Every single night I fall asleep looking out my window, hoping. Although I will say, there are considerably less stars outside mine than there used to be outside yours. Probably means something; hurts too much to think about it.

_if i keep running back to you // your heart is a slow train comin i’m afraid to make my move_

I still have an old polaroid of us. Do you remember when Mike found his dad’s old camera and used to take pictures of all of us when we’d hang out? Before I moved away, he came to my house early that morning, before you got there. He was always up so early. He gave me a photo he’d taken about a month before I even knew I was leaving. It was us, in Bill’s basement, passed out. Mike had been the first one to wake up after one of our sleepovers, as he always was. He had found us on the couch, your head in my lap and my hand in your hair, my other hand was loosely entangled with one of yours. I didn’t even remember it. Do you? I keep it in my wallet, just so I won’t forget you. It’s faded, but you can still see us. I look at it when I forget what you used to look like. Which happens more and more every day. It hurts, Eds. Do you remember me? What I looked like? I wish I knew what you looked like now. How you’re doing now. I should have called you, I don’t know why I didn’t. Maybe the same reason I never told you I loved you when we were younger.

_hey old lover it’s a lonely day // there’s a record on and the song remains_

Do you remember all those times we drove around Derry in my old, beat up truck? When your mom was too much or my parents were on my case about something. You always used to fiddle with the radio in between every song. There was almost more flipping through channels in that car than actual music. You’ve always been so picky. I remember the songs you liked, the few you’d actually let play. I have a playlist of them on my phone and listen to it every time I drive. It’s not the same.

_if we dance real slow until the music fades // will we do the same_

Do you remember the song that played at prom? You know the one. Ben and Bev were dancing, Mike was dancing with his girlfriend, Stan with Patty and Bill with Audra. It was just us. And I asked you to dance. And you said yes. I remember the blush on your face when you put your hands on my shoulders, your eyelashes fluttering as you looked around. I miss those shy looks we used to share. When we’d both look around and catch each other’s eyes every once in a while. That night I couldn’t bring myself to look away. You were so beautiful, Eds. You probably still are. It doesn’t matter though. Because you’re marrying  _her._ We could have gotten married. We could have danced like that at our wedding.

_held your heart till the bitter end_

I’ve held out hope my whole life. Picturing that dance. Picturing our wedding. I always thought it would happen. I thought we’d find our way back. But I got that wedding invitation today, and I can’t. I don’t know what to do, Eds. I guess this whole time I’ve been thinking of you I thought you were thinking of me too.

_you held my hand like i was your best friend_

Do you remember the wedding the losers had for us? A week after we met, I asked you to marry me. You giggled and said of course. God I miss your giggle, it sounded like angels singing. We were seven. And we got married in the Denbrough’s backyard. I guess that wedding will have to replace the one I’ve been picturing for the last 20 years; it’s the only one we’ll ever have.

I don’t even know why I’m writing this, Eds. It feels too impersonal to just check regrets on the RSVP of that invitation. I’ve always been the clown but there are no jokes to make here. I’ve loved you for my whole life, Eddie, and I’ll love you until the day I die. I hope Myra loves you just as much as I do.

 

Yours, 

Richie.

_in another life we will meet again_

Richie signed the letter and leaned back in his chair, sighing. He turned around to look out his window, hoping against hope the same thing he’d been since he moved away from Derry when he was seventeen. But he knew it would never happen. He got up and crossed the room to lock the window, looking out one last time before drawing the blinds for the first time since he’d moved into his apartment. He padded back to his desk and looked down at the letter he’d just written. He picked it up, crumpled it into a tight ball and threw it in the garbage under his desk. He leaned over, checked regret on the RSVP card from the invitation to Eddie and Myra’s wedding, and sealed it. He’d take it to the post office the next day. He ran a hand through his hair and slipped out of his jeans. He climbed in bed and fell asleep that night facing the wall, tears staining his pillow.


End file.
